


Chase The Rabbit

by Kona



Category: Pacific Rim (2013), Sailor Moon - All Media Types
Genre: Because a Pacific Rim AU is not a happy AU, Because a two year gap in writing does WONDERS, F/F, Gratuitous use of the F bomb, Mentions of Sex, Pacific Rim AU, Rivals to Partners, Second Chapter is Much better, War, everyone dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-04 01:25:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1761761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kona/pseuds/Kona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two Sides to the Same Coin. A story told in two parts. </p><p>Part One: When they first meet, it's at the Shatterdome, in the training program with dozens of other people who are supposed to be the best and the brightest. Haruka Tenoh is one of those best and brightest. Michiru Kaioh sticks out like a sore thumb among the soldiers, but no one questions her being there. They are the unlikeliest pair of drift compatible people at the base. And yet-</p><p>Part Two: Kaioh Michiru is not a woman who ever pictured herself a soldier. She remembers her mother cooing as she cupped Michiru’s small hands and telling her how beautiful her hands were. <br/>Artist’s hands.</p><p>(Part one is two years old holy crap pls ignore the jump in quality I beg you)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One And The Same

**Author's Note:**

> Shamelessly plugged Haruka and Michiru into the Russians position in the original movie. Also wholly unoriginal at naming things.

When they first meet, it’s at the Shatterdome, in the training program with dozens of other people who are supposed to be the best and the brightest. There are some she wouldn’t have picked herself-but the words ‘drift compatible’ are a common defense for any people who look too frail to enter a Jaeger. She knows some of them from army boot camp. The Japanese pilots stick together, just as the pilots from the other nations do. They are one of the biggest group-given that their entire country is a coast waiting to be destroyed.

Haruka Tenoh is one of Japan’s best and brightest. An athlete and a fighter. She signed up for this program with her boot camp partner Makoto. After their families were killed in the first attack on Tokyo Bay, they decided to dedicate their lives to killing the bastards that destroyed their homes.

When they train, they spar with a pair of swimmers. Two girls who have unusual hair and quiet demeanors. One is smarter than the other-the strategist, and the other is all coy smiles and sharp jabs. They are perfectly in sync in the pool-and even on ground the two work well. Haruka figures that they paired the two groups together because she and Makoto are aggressive and the Water Girls are calm and fluid.

The first time that Haruka and Makoto try to drift in a simulator-the result is jarring and damaging. Their minds fight over letting the other in. Haruka has a splitting headache for days. They are separated. Makoto lashes out at her.

“You won’t allow anyone into your head Haruka. I can’t drift with you if all you’re gonna do is lock me out!”

They fight and Haruka regrets breaking Makoto’s arm, but she doesn’t regret their partnership ending. She worries for her position in the program. Without a partner she is nothing to them. No one can pilot a Jaeger alone. Makoto finds her staring out at the new Jaegers being built and she stands with her against the railing.

“They’re sending all of us Japanese trainees to the Tokyo base. Shatterdome wants to focus on their pilots.”

“What are we going to do?” Haruka’s fingers tighten around the railing, “We aren’t compatible. Mako, I _can’t_ get kicked out of this program.”- _I’ve got nothing else._

They’re silent for a few moments before Makoto speaks, toying with her cast as she does so.

“The swimmers-the ones we trained with? They failed their first drift too. I was talking with the shorter one. Ami,” she pauses, “They could keep us in the program. I’ll pair up with Ami. You pair up with her partner. That should keep us safe until they can find new people for us to work with.”

Haruka frowns as she watches sparks fly from a steel plate being sealing to the chest of the Jaeger in front of her.

When they arrive in Tokyo, Makoto is no longer her bunk mate. She moves in with the girl called Michiru Kaioh. She listens to classical violin music and she sketches in a drawing pad when they aren’t in training. She is soft in places that Haruka is hard. It is a week before they have their first dialogue.

“Remember. The two of you are not out to hurt each other-you are reading each other. First to 4 wins.”

Meioh Setsuna-their division’s head, is at the front of the training room, arms folded over her chest. She glares down at Haruka and Haruka winks back-remembering when Setsuna was nothing more than an overachieving officer in the army and they were friends. Setsuna rolls her eyes.

The bo staff is light in Haruka’s grip as she circles the mat, and she watches Michiru run her fingers up and down the wood. She sees her shift her footing and Haruka takes a strong step forward-the staff flowing as an extension of her arm as she aims for Michiru’s ribs. She did not expect Michiru’s staff to intercept her blow. Nor did she except her feet to be swept from beneath her.

“One to zero.”

Michiru’s voice is smooth, like water. Her motions are just the same. Haruka sees the smugness in her eyes as she stands. She dislikes the way Michiru’s lips curl up in a proud smile. She attacks this time with speed and Michiru’s expression changes drastically. She freezes as Haruka’s staff stops only a few centimeters from her forehead.

“One to One.”

This time Haruka is smug and her grin irritates Michiru immediately.

“You two need to stop this pissing contest right now. Take this seriously Tenoh. You too Kaioh.”

Setsuna’s voice brings Haruka back to reality and she watches as Michiru sighs, pushing her bangs from her face. They ready themselves again and this time Haruka clears her mind of trying to be the bigger fighter. She catches Makoto’s eye from the back of the room, and sees her nod. It was no different than sparring with Makoto. Clear the mind and then you can connect. Create a bridge.

This time when Michiru comes at her, Haruka is ready. She connects their staffs and they part. It turned into a dance where the two of them circle about each other, trading blows. Setsuna is calling out points but at this point all Haruka can see is Michiru, and all she can hear is Michiru, and _finally_ she sweeps her staff under Michiru’s feet and she falls. She straddles her quickly and thrusts her staff towards Michiru’s neck-stopping just before it hit.

“Four to Three. Well done Team 3.”

There is quiet applause as the two combatants pant and Haruka raises herself from Michiru’s body-offering a hand as she goes. Michiru takes it and she really is so much lighter than Haruka thought, but her hand tingles slightly at the contact.

“Perhaps we may be a team yet, Miss Tenoh.”

Michiru’s voice is quiet as the next pair takes the staffs from them. Haruka smiles, not letting go of Michiru’s hand, “Perhaps we may.”

They train together and Haruka learns that Michiru was once a violinist-a popular one-and that she was getting ready to start her first tour when Tokyo Bay was attacked. Haruka admits that she used to race cars before the incident. She leaves out her piano playing, but she knows Michiru sees the way her fingers twitch when they listen to old orchestra CDs. Michiru knows she used to be a musician. She doesn’t pry though. She doesn’t need to. The drift will explain everything.

When they finally drift, Haruka doesn’t feel as anxious as she had when she and Makoto drifted. Michiru stands right beside her in the cockpit and she radiates calm.

“Activating handshake. Remember girls-do not chase the rabbits.”

The handshake hits her hard. Suddenly she is seven and she has won her first nationwide track race. Then she is twelve and beginning to race dirt bikes. Fifteen and she is behind the wheel for the first time. Then the Tokyo Bay Attack.  And then she sees Michiru-

A young girl born into privilege-expected to be a porcelain doll-she barely saw her parents. Finding refuge in the arts. Playing violin and suddenly Haruka feels the memory of her piano days boiling up to meet Michiru’s and she can _feel_ Michiru’s delight. She sees her face in Michiru’s sketchbook and she notices how Michiru has been following her for some time. Emotions flicker through her eyes as Michiru feels them.

Trust. Loyalty. Affection. Compassion.

“Team 3, are you lucid?”

Haruka feels her conscious snap back to reality and she glances to Michiru and sees herself and it is a strange feeling. But her hand finds the com-link and presses it.

“We are clear. Ready to calibrate.”

They pass their simulations with flying colors-they become the shining jewel of the Japanese program. Makoto and Ami transfer divisions to the research division and Haruka is happy for them. Setsuna tells them that their Jaeger is almost finished being constructed and while they wait, they sit and listen to music together-composing as they go.

It doesn’t become a sexual relationship right away. Haruka keeps Michiru close-they are always touching somewhere-as if she’s afraid she’ll wander off. They share a bed and hold each other close-the people on base swear that they are having sex-But they only laugh and reply with teases.

“There she is ladies. Shaking Submerge. The first Jaeger to be able to skim the water’s surface and channel water through her hull to use as an attack. Fastest Jaeger built.”

Haruka stares up at their Jaeger in awe. She is sleek and powerful-a dark navy with cresting waves of aquamarine splashed across her arms and chest. She squeezes Michiru’s hand and she is almost abuzz with excitement.

They officially graduate form the program in 2017-and are promptly sent out to deal with the Kaiju rearing their heads along the coast. They are quick and efficient. Haruka is their brawn-but Michiru is their brain and together they are nearly impossible to beat. Their kill streak grows every day and they are heroes to Japan-suddenly everywhere at once.

“Who knew beating up a few monsters would make us famous, mmm?” Haruka presses her chin over Michiru’s head, staring out at their Jaeger, currently in repair.

“Well, I certainly figured that if we made it past our first mission we’d have some sort of acclaim,” Michiru giggles and locks her fingers in Haruka’s, “We’re being sent out to defend that wall they’re building next week.”

“A wall? Idiots. Like the Kaiju are going to let a wall stop them. Well. We’ll just have to prove that S.S. and her crew are better than some damn wall,” Haruka growls, and Michiru’s laughter soothes the growl to a small sigh, “We’ll be fine.”

It turns out-as if the Kaiju planned it-they attack as the work on the wall reaches a peak. Shaking Submerge is sent out and it is a long and tiring battle because the damn bastards just don’t want to die.

One goes down in the first 5 hours. Setsuna asks if they need another crew to help them. Haruka tells her to go away. In the 11th hour they take down another that decided that Japan was a better target than China. Finally in the 18th hour, when Haruka isn’t even sure if she’s Haruka or Michiru, the final Kaiju goes down. They are out of weapons, power, and Haruka can barely feel her body. She looks at Michiru and her vision is blurry but her mind is so clear and it isn’t really _her_ mind it’s _their_ mind and they take off their helmets as one and even though the bridge between their mind is disconnected, Haruka still feels Michiru in her head, in her body, in her _soul._

“Haruka.”

“Michiru.”

They say each other’s names because they aren’t sure that they’re really there at all and when they return to base it’s all they can do to make it through their medical check and to fall into bed together. They curl against one another and they sleep together. They dream together.

Haruka is told that theirs is the longest drift in history. That the scientists are surprised they can even think separate thoughts-that they haven’t collapsed in on themselves.

“How? How are you still you?”

Haruka hasn’t got a proper answer for them. So she shrugs in the doorway of their quarters, still tired to the core from the day before. She makes something up.

“I listened for the piano. That was me. The violin’s Michiru. That’s how.”

It’s utter bullshit-and the scientist is about to ask another question, but Haruka slams the door shut in his face and turns back to Michiru, who sits on their bed with her sketchbook in her lap. Her hands are shaking.  Haruka kneels before her, taking Michiru’s smaller hands in her own.

“Are you alright?”

“I am fine-”

“You can’t lie to me Michiru. I can _feel_ it in your mind, I-”

Michiru squeezes her hands and Haruka falls silent. Michiru plays with her fingers for a long moment, and her fingers are cold against Haruka’s warmth. Haruka has never seen her partner so shaken. She waits. She can wait for Michiru forever.

“That thing you said to them. About the piano. And the violin,” Michiru’s voice is hushed, “When we were finished-before they cut the line-I,” Michiru chokes on the words, and Haruka wants to gather her in her arms but she knows better than to do that. “I was watching you play piano, Haruka,” she whispers, and Haruka’s eyes widen-because she hasn’t played the piano in years, “It was such a beautiful moment and you looked so happy that I-I just couldn’t bear to leave that warmth.”

“Michiru…” Haruka squeezes Michiru’s hands in one of her own and then uses the other to cup the back of her partner’s head to bring forward. Her lips press to Michiru’s forehead in a long kiss before she tucks Michiru against her chest, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t focusing enough-I must have snapped the connection -”

“No Haruka. _I_ chased the rabbit. On purpose. I wanted to see something. If what I felt during the drift was true-if we were really a duet,” Michiru argues, and pushes Haruka away. Her eyes are filled with tears, and her fingers curl around Haruka’s shirt, “Haruka-why won’t you touch me?”

Haruka’s throat closes up and the excuses die in her mouth before they can leave it. She knows in her heart _why_ she hasn’t-and Michiru knows it too. You don’t swim around in each other’s head for 18 hours without everything being ripped away. There were no secrets and yet-

_I wonder if she can feel how fucking scared I am._

“I don’t really know.”

Michiru rolls her eyes and tosses her drawing pad away. She grabs the front of Haruka’s shirt again and yanks Haruka up to kiss her. She is _not_ the poised, calm pilot that the trainees look up to, nor is she the snarky co-pilot that Haruka is used to. This Michiru is hungry and raw and by _God_ she sure knows how to kiss.

They tumble to the bed and they don’t need words for this because it’s almost like drifting, and Haruka can’t tell where she begins and Michiru ends and it doesn’t matter because they’re together in all ways possible now.

It’s the year 2025 and they have been piloting Shaking Submerge for 9 years. She is one of the oldest Jaegers left-and despite having been fast when she was created-she is slow compared to the newest Mark 5 machines. Haruka and Michiru watch as they load their Jaeger into the bay behind their quarters and Haruka frowns.

“They’re saying that this is it. This is all of us. Strange to be back in the Shatterdome, mmm?”

Michiru laughs and it’s a sad thing because so many of their comrades are dead. The other pilots who graduated with them, their leader, and their friends. All gone. Only the strongest survived.

“Well, with us they shouldn’t have to worry too much, mmm?” Michiru turns in Haruka’s arms and reaches up to caress the side of her jaw, “Even with the new pilot team they’re bringing in. We’ll make it through this together.”

Haruka leans down, grinning, “Well duh. A person doesn’t drift for 18 hours straight to die like a wimp,” she steals a kiss from Michiru and doesn’t care a whit who sees because most everyone knows that these two are one person and to think of them otherwise is a very bad idea.

It’s 2025, in Hong Kong. It’s raining and there are _two fucking Kaiju_ in the bay and Michiru is reeling next to Haruka and her whole left side is a wall of pain because the damn beast has ripped off their beloved Jaeger’s arm. There is a breach in the head and Haruka can feel the panic and fear begin to well up in both of their minds.

“You _fucker_!”

Haruka screams and her voice is hoarse as they are dragged under the sea they have been protecting for _Nine Years_ and the leak is so great the chamber is filling up with water and _fuck-_

“Haruka-”

“Michiru-”

The water pressure breaks the wall and the chamber floods and the panic closes in around her but they’re still _connected_ and so for the first time-as Haruka reaches blindly for her partner-she chases the rabbit.

She sees them meeting, a lifetime ago when all they knew were that they were both Japanese.

She relives their first dialogue-the first time they drift-being presented their Jaeger-

_Nights where it was just them and the sheets and music and laughter and love-_

_Painting the music notes over Shaking Submerge’s chest and laughing when Setsuna yells at them for sneaking onto the bridge._

_A duet performed once-just the two of them. It’s the most beautiful thing Haruka has ever heard and her heart is just overflowing with Michiru, Michiru, **Michiru-**_

Then her connection is broken and Michiru is no longer there in her mind and she panics because after living with her in her head for so long-not having her there sends her into a frenzy, but finally she realizes she’s holding someone’s hand. As her vision fails her, she smiles. One final moment-the rabbit flashes in her mind.

_They are in their bunk, naked. Michiru is in her lap with her back pressed to Haruka’s front and they are just enjoying the moment when Haruka speaks._

_“Hey, Michiru.”_

_“Yes, Haruka?”_

_“How do you suppose we’ll go out?”_

_“Well, if I had my way Haruka, we would never ‘go out’,” Michiru turns in her arms and she smiles. She wraps her arms around Haruka’s neck and their foreheads touch, “But if we must go-we’ll go the way we do everything. Together.”_

_“Together or not at all. I like it,” Haruka’s grin is feral and she captures Michiru’s lips and lays her to the bed. When they break apart Michiru laughs._

_“Well, we’ve certainly earned a break, mm? Let’s take this slowly-it’s only us tonight.”_

_Haruka laughs and holds Michiru tight and it’s like they’re in a drift and then-_

The two pilots of Shaking Submerge’s vitals drop from the screen and the Jaeger sinks to the bottom of the bay, her pilots locked in embrace as they fall with her.


	2. Soldier's Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaioh Michiru is not a woman who ever pictured herself a soldier. She remembers her mother cooing as she cupped Michiru’s small hands and telling her how beautiful her hands were.  
> Artist’s hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an utter surprise for all involved. This literally came out of NO WHERE. Well, not really. I recently rewatched Pacific Rim and then decided to look back at this fic to see how well it had aged. Uh...Not well. So in a fit of tipsy writing fury I wrote this in the span of three days. So enjoy the exact same tale from Michiru's point of view with WAY more backstory and explanation because I was a jerk and told y'all nothing the first time around.

Kaioh Michiru is not a woman who ever pictured herself a soldier. She remembers her mother cooing as she cupped Michiru’s small hands and telling her how beautiful her hands were.

Artist’s hands.

Everyone always commented on her artist’s hands. Hands that only callused at the tips where strings were plucked and pressed. Manicured and well kept-she was nothing without her hands. She could not perform without them, she could not create without them.

They were the opposite of a soldier’s hands.

She’s a darling for her country. Japan collectively fawns over this perfect prodigy to ignore the threat that Pacific Rim faces. She knows that they need to focus on something. She is more than happy to be that distraction. Even if it causes something under her skin to itch.  


She releases all that energy into the pool. She’s loved the water since birth-but with the Kaiju out in the ocean, she’s resorted to having to do laps in a pool. She swims with another of Japan’s best and brightest. Mizuno Ami is quiet and intense in the pool, and they match each other stroke for stroke. She’s a familiar comfort in the pool. Always in the lane next to her, always swimming away from the pressures placed on her.

It is safe in the water, next to Ami.

Michiru remembers being a guest on a variety show with two Jaeger pilots in the weeks leading up to her first national tour. Two strong men who walked in sync and turned at the same time to hear sounds. They wear sharp dress uniforms and have the look about them that they have seen things that no one should have to see.

She remembers one of them turning to her and whispering before they all go on that he was a ‘big fan’ and her music helped with the nightmares. His partner complained that he was tired of listening to classical all the time.

Michiru remembers their quiet laughter with each other at a joke she does not understand. Their bond is clear in the way that they bump shoulders and share a knowing look.

She remembers that moment-burned into her mind’s eye when the attack on Tokyo Bay claims their lives. They defeated the Kaiju but went down with it. The country mourns the loss of life all throughout Tokyo. Michiru’s agent releases a statement that she expresses her grief and fervent hope to rebuild and that she will postpone her tour in respect of the lost lives.

Michiru swims harder than she ever has next to Ami.  


Months pass, and Tokyo rebuilds. The music does not come as easily as it used to. It’s harder to ignore the test sirens that blare in the air urging people to go to shelters, or in the way the country as a whole has decided that perhaps they should have taken the Kaiju more seriously.

Ami has dark circles under her eyes as she swims. She tells Michiru about the theorems that her professors are asking her to solve. Theorems that will go back into the Jaeger program to help save lives. Ami wants to be a doctor. She wants to help people.

Her fingers shake on the lane lines as she whispers things about experiments gone wrong and the nightmares she has about the Bay attack. Michiru covers Ami’s hands, just as delicate as her own and tells her to swim.

Their coach wishes they would compete, but the two always balk at the idea. There was so much more they needed to do. They didn’t have the time. Symphonies are circling in Michiru’s head, and equations flood Ami’s mind. There is so little time to do what they must.

They cannot be distracted by the water’s call.  


Michiru reads the paper the morning that Tenoh Haruka announces her retirement from racing and her desire to join the Jaeger Program. The country bemoans the loss of one of their brightest, but Michiru looks into the eyes of this young woman and sees a hauntingly familiar look in those eyes.

She was running out of time to do what she wanted to do.

The news reporters harry her on her way to the airport to report to basic training. They ask her what she hopes to accomplish-why give up her future-why resign herself to death-stay stay stay-

“It’s my duty to protect what’s important to me. I’m going to kill as many of those bastards as I can.”

Unsaid, but Michiru hears, it is the ‘before I die.’

The strong tilt to Haruka’s chin as she boards her plane makes Michiru curious. She had known about Tenoh, of course. One didn’t exist as a high schooler and not know who this prodigy in a car was. Fast on her feet and feet behind a wheel, her devil may care personality had earned her adoring fans all across the world.

Michiru remembers hearing this girl two years ago boasting how she would never settle down or compromise. She would live her own life free of burdens.

Her eyes haunt Michiru’s thoughts.  


She swims.

Ami swims beside her and it’s comforting to have her strokes matched over and over and over again. Left right left right breath. Repeat.

Their coach has someone watching them today.

Meioh Setsuna is a rising member of the Japanese Jaeger program. She’s the assistant Marshall next to the now retired Luna and Artemis-who had piloted a Mark Two Jaeger at the very beginning of this war. She had been plucked straight from the army’s ranks as a potential pilot. That hadn’t worked out. She was given command instead. She wears a crisp uniform and Michiru remembers the young pilots in their sharp uniforms laughing at each other before their deaths.

Her eyes seem older than time.

Michiru wonders how many people she’s sent to their deaths. How many people haven’t survived.

“You two are remarkable in the pool. I’ve never seen two people swim like that.” Her compliments are sincere, her voice warm.

“You want us for the Jaeger program.”

Ami is the one who breaths that out, eyes wide.

“You two share a bond in the water and I’ve never seen anything like it. I’ll tell you what it means though. Drift compatibility. I think you have a shot at helping to stop these monsters in the sea.”

“But-my work-” Ami is quick to protest, fear in her eyes.

“Your math and science are important, Mizuno. But what we need are pilots. People who want to save lives. To make a _real_ difference in the ocean. What do you say?”

“Let us think about it.”

They swim again, and for the first time since they met they are out of sync with each other. They leave with the resolve to decide and return tomorrow. They both need to say yes or neither will go. It’s only fair.

Michiru thinks about her music, how her agent and producer are gearing her up for her tour to kick off at last. Of the charity gallery she’s set to open in a month’s time. Of her mother cooing in her ear that she was like a perfect doll. TV hosts proclaiming her to be Japan’s brightest shining star.

She looks at her hands. Thin and tapered. Calloused at the tips. Artist’s hands.

They itch with the wish to do something more. She remembers Tenoh’s words ringing in her ears.

_Duty duty duty._

They would have to become soldier’s hands.

Her mother nearly has a nervous breakdown when she tells her. Her agent and producer beg her to reconsider. The newspaper calls her and Ami martyrs for the hope of the Japanese people. Michiru calls it duty.

 

The Hong Kong Shatterdome is impressive in size and in the amount of hopefuls who want to pilot. They split up according to nation because language is a comfortable thing to have in common. Michiru sees Tenoh with her partner, and she is relieved to see that she still has the drive in her eyes that had haunted Michiru for months.

Training is grueling. They run together, swim together, eat together, and fight together. Ami rallies behind Michiru, never missing a beat. Their dialogues in the combat room are fluid like the water and whenever Michiru flickers her glance to Meioh, she looks pleased.

They train with Tenoh and her partner, a tall Amazon of a girl, whose punch has knocked out a man a foot taller than her. The two of them move forward as if there is nothing left to lose. Michiru and Ami defend and protect, knowing there is still so _much_ to lose. They do not speak, Tenoh and her. Tenoh’s partner, Kino Makoto, is kind enough and always thanks them for the sparring matches.

Kino and Ami spend more time together during free time than Michiru would have guessed. Michiru has no friends but Ami in the class. She is fine with that. She observes Tenoh with an artist’s eyes.

She draws Tenoh with soldier’s hands.

They are one of the ten pairs out of the training class that make it to the simulation. Tenoh and Kino are also chosen. The simulation blared a loud horn of defeat as Tenoh and Kino exit the pod-looking grim and murderous. They part ways before anyone can even ask how it’s gone.

The drift is unlike anything that Michiru can describe. She suddenly knew the answers to equations she had never thought of. Ami was dissecting the wavelength of a C chord in their shared heads and it goes well for a shining moment before everything went horribly wrong.

Michiru’s imagination gave life to the nightmares Ami had admitted to months ago. Their connection frays and snaps violently. The whole cockpit is bathed in red lights and Michiru’s head spins.

They fail for the first time in their lives.

It is days before anyone dares to mention it. Ami apologizes profusely. Michiru accepts and watches as down the hall Tenoh screams at Kino before the two begin to grapple wildly with each other. The roar of pain as Kino’s arm breaks, and the feral snarl of Tenoh’s face burns a hole in her mind.

She goes back to her room before that hatred is unleashed on her.  


Meioh meets with her and Ami the night before they transfer to Tokyo. She suggests a change. Ami would go with Kino, and Michiru with Tenoh.

“I’m hoping you’ll be a positive influence on her.”

Meioh meets Michiru’s gaze and there is desperation there. Michiru agrees.  


They return to Tokyo and their arrival is heralded as the prodigal children returning to save the day. They all huddle away from the news cameras as Meioh barks at the press to leave them alone. They are brought to their new home in silence.

The bunk she shares with Tenoh is similar to the one in Hong Kong. She claims the bottom bunk and Tenoh claims the top. They do not speak. Michiru draws and listens to her music, and notes the way that Tenoh’s fingers twitch in time with the piano solos. She doesn’t dare bring it up.

When they run Tenoh blazes past her. When they swim Michiru outpaces her. When they eat they are silent.

They have their first dialogue a week in. Meioh is clearly frustrated with them. This is punishment, Michiru thinks, as the rest of their class watches. She wants to put them back on track.

Far be it for Michiru to disappoint.

The first point goes to her, and something about the shock on Tenoh’s face causes pride to well in her chest. She smiles. Tenoh’s face warps into a frown and in another instant Tenoh’s staff is a moment from shattering her nose.

Her grin is the most irritating thing Michiru has ever seen.

It’s the first time she’s ever seen it aimed at her.

“You two need to stop this pissing contest right now. Take this seriously Tenoh. You too Kaioh.”

Meioh’s voice brings the two of them back. Michiru breathes. She thinks of Ami.

Left right left right breath. Just the same. Flow through it.

This time when she lashes out with her staff, Tenoh is there to parry and riposte. Their staffs meet with a satisfying _click_ that has never sounded so much like music to Michiru in her life. They fall into a dance and there is a wild spark in Tenoh’s eyes as they move as one.

The lines between their movements blur as points are called and taken in turn. The moment is broken when at last Michiru feels her feet lose contact with the ground. She hits the ground with a jarring thud and Tenoh’s weight is on her in an instant, her staff aimed for a killing blow.

Tenoh’s pupils are blown wide and she is staring at her as if she’s never seen anything like her before. The connection she feels at this moment seems to set the air to a humming frequency. It draws slowly like her bow against her violin-before finally it snaps with Meioh congratulating them.

Tenoh blinks and it’s as if a spell breaks. She stands and offers Michiru her hand. A peace offering.

When Michiru takes it she feels a rush of _something_ shoot up her arm. Tenoh’s hand feels secure. It feels right. Like they were made together and then torn apart. It’s poetic and Michiru wonders briefly if _this_ is what real Drift Compatibility is like as she’s lifted effortlessly.

She smiles.

“Perhaps we may be a team yet, Miss Tenoh.”

Tenoh smiles at her, still holding her hand. Her eyes grow softer, a state Michiru has never seen them in. Her whole self radiates a sense of calm Michiru has never felt from her before. She cocks her head to the side, and Michiru sees the appeal in this young woman that her classmates had gushed about at last.

“Perhaps we may.”

She does not let go of her hand.

 

The run together now, Michiru meeting Tenoh’s pace. They swim together and Tenoh surges forward to match Michiru’s pace. They eat together and speak at last. Michiru burns with the question of _why_. She spends three weeks training and getting to know Tenoh’s smiles and smirks and sideways glances before she finally asks.

“Why did you really give up racing?”

Tenoh’s eyes harden for a moment before she drops her gaze to the table. Her voice is quiet when she admits it.

“My family died in the attack on the Bay. I was so fucking angry. I signed up right away.” She fiddles with the bread roll in her hand, “I knew Meioh before she was in the program. We’d trained together in Basic when I joined the military for a couple of months before quitting. She’d come to me before the attack, told me I should join. That I was what they needed.”

Michiru listens, with growing dread as Tenoh’s frown grows with a dark chuckle.

“I refused. I wanted to _race_. I needed to run away from the bullshit in the ocean.” She sucks in a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut, “If I had gone when she asked me. I could have helped. I could have stopped that asshole in the Bay. But I didn’t.”

Michiru reaches over the table and cups Tenoh’s elbow, anchoring her to lower her hands to the table, tension easing out of her limbs.

“I’ll always wonder what if. I don’t want to wonder what if on anymore attacks. I’m going to kill every single one of them that dares pop their heads up.” Tenoh’s eyes meet Michiru’s, and a small smile is on Tenoh’s face, “ _We’re_ going to kill them. Right, Michiru?”

Michiru’s heart swells and she squeezes _Haruka’s_ arm.

“Right, Haruka.”

 

“Why did you join?”

Haruka asks her this late one night as they toss a tennis ball back and forth to the time of a metronome-one of the R&D teams homebrewed methods to help strengthen mental focus between pilots (Michiru has a sneaking suspicion is it one of Ami’s innovations). She nearly falters in her catch, but finds her internal rhythm quickly.

“I met the two pilots that defeated the Kaiju in the Bay a few weeks before it happened. One of them said he was a fan of my music.”

“So a tribute?”

Michiru ponders that thought as they continue to pass the ball back and forth. She closes her eyes, conjuring up the first time she met Setsuna and smiles.

“No. A kick in the pants. Setsuna came to me and Ami when I was only a week away from my first national tour. Ami was applying to medical schools. We swam to ignore the world. It was relaxing.” She opens her eyes as Haruka sends the ball snapping into her waiting palm. She smiles at her partner.

“I had a duty to help.”

Haruka’s eyes widen in recognition and when she catches the tennis ball she keeps holding onto it-ignoring the ticking of the metronome. She lowers her hand, and a crooked smile crosses her face. Michiru’s heart stutters in her chest.

“Far be it for us to ignore duty, eh Michiru?”

 

Their first simulation is nothing like her attempt with Ami. The handshake hits her like a gust of wind on the seashore.

She comes home.

She watches her childhood wander by her-years of living in a glass house looking out into the world. The pilots’ faces as they laugh. Haruka’s face in her sketchbook-stern and driven. The way Haruka’s fingers felt in hers the first time they truly touched. Playing violin in front of a large audience.

Without even realizing it, Haruka bubbles to the surface of her mind with the sound of a piano running scales up and down the keys.

Every race run and won, every fight that she ever bruised her knuckles in. The way that her eyes followed Michiru when they first met, indifference morphing to grudging respect to camaraderie.Everything is laid out like a pile of sheet music in front of Michiru and she feels warm inside.

When she snaps back to reality, she locks eyes with Haruka and they take a breath in sync and Haruka grins wolfishly as she presses the comm-link to give the ‘all clear’

 

They pass with flying colors.

Ami gushes that on the bridge she’d read some of the strongest synchronization signs she’d ever seen. Michiru smiles and squeezes her hands. It was sad, letting go of Ami-she and Kino had been transferred to the R&D department.

Ami with the small hands and small smiles.

“Thank you.”

The words are loaded with far more than just a return for the compliment. Without Ami she never meets Haruka. She never joins the program. She never gives into duty.

Ami’s eyes water as she tears up. She squeezes back.

“Me too, Michiru. Me too.”

 

Their Jaeger is a beauty. Shaking Submerge is one of the prettiest things Michiru has ever seen. She’s struck by the urge to paint her weapon in movement. Haruka takes her hand and squeezes it tightly. Her face is pure awe as she stares up at the Mark-3. Michiru memorizes the way Haruka’s face looks in this moment and smiles.

When Setsuna leaves them alone in front of the giant mech, Haruka gathers Michiru in her arms and spins her around with a loud bark of laughter. When she puts her down her grin is wild.

“We’re going to destroy them, Michiru.”

 

Graduation is a formality. She stands right beside Haruka, their uniforms sharp and crisp. They walk in sync to the podium and receive their Ranger ranks with pride. Haruka takes her hand and raises their joined arms to the sky as they make their way back down to their fellows. The cheers of their fellow graduates causes Haruka to grin, and Michiru smiles up at her partner, the medal on her chest burning a hole in her skin.

She is a Ranger.

 

“Huh.”

Haruka is holding her hands, massaging out the kinks in them after a long session of paperwork that accompanied their new rank. She stares at Michiru’s hands, her thumb making a pass over Michiru’s palms. She looks up to Michiru, a curious look on her face.

“Looks like we made a soldier out of you after all, Miss Kaioh.”

She smiles.

“Our hands are the same.”

 

They are deadly in their Jaeger. Haruka’s rage and power, with Michiru’s grace and precision make them one of the Jaeger Program’s biggest success stories. Setsuna beams with pride every time the return from a battle successful.

They spend the time they aren’t training or recovering appearing on shows across the world, giving interviews. If Michiru closes her eyes she can almost imagine that she’s wearing a dress and talking about her music or art. But then Haruka’s low chuckle will bring her back, and Haruka’s arm slung over her shoulder grounds her.

“Do either of you regret giving up on your dreams to defend the world from Kaiju?”

The host is just the same as the rest, but he’s the first to broach the topic. Haruka sides a sidelong glance to Michiru, who smiles demurely and answers in a polite tone.

“No. This is a duty we accept with all our hearts. We are meant to be Jaeger pilots.”

Haruka squeezes her closer with a laugh, and quips with the host about still being famous, but Michiru ignores it to focus on the feeling of peace she has found.

It is quiet and constant.

 

Haruka is always at her side. They run together. They swim together. They eat together. Haruka’s knee is always bumping hers under the table, her arm always brushing hers when they are being briefed. They minds tickle with what the other is about to do constantly. They walk in time to a metronome that has been engraved into their minds.

Haruka’s grins wreck havoc on her heart. Her hands undoing knots of tension in her shoulders and hands send shivers down her spine. The way she whispers in her ear during long meetings make her heart stutter. Michiru fits perfectly under Haruka’s chin and they are two halves of a whole.

Haruka is a gentleman. She never goes beyond gentle flirtation, coy glances and teasing touches while training. They share a bed and sleep with legs tangled together and breath rising and falling in time. Michiru wishes that Haruka would take the plunge but she would never presume. The Drift tells her many things about Haruka-but her deepest desires, her strongest wishes are always carefully guarded at the center of her heart. Just as Michiru’s are.

It is infuriating at times, but any connection with Haruka is preferable to none.

 

The whispers of the wall that they are building to stop the Kaiju are ridiculous. Ami mutters every day at meals about the sheer waste of money it would be. Makoto slings an arm around her shoulder and comforts her partner with a low laugh. Haruka frowns into her coffee.

“As if a Wall could stop a force of nature.” She sends a coy glance to Michiru, a grin crossing her face, “Only another force of nature could stop it, right?”

“Of course. And that would be us.”

 

As it turns out, the force of nature that emerges from the sea is larger than anticipated. The Wall is useless-as it is being built behind Shaking Submerge. The first battle is grueling only because it is so close to the Wall and Michiru cannot tell if it is Haruka or herself who wants to scream at the N.A.T.O. for deciding that _this_ was the best plan to stop Kaiju.

Her mind attempts to keep time with a metronome but they have been in the drift for too long for the familiar ticking to work. Everything blurs together and Haruka’s temper sinks into her bones. The rhythm of their drift is a frantic string of staccato notes.

When the support crew informs them of the two Kaiju that swam around the Rim just for the purpose of hitting the wall Michiru’s composure is the first to crack.

“For _fucks_ sake.”

Haruka’s laughter echoes in her chest as it if were her own and they continue on, facing the force of nature as one.

Her mind feels like someone has put it through a tornado and spat it back out.

She isn’t sure if the cramp in her right leg is from Haruka or herself. The headache throbbing in her temples has to to be both of theirs though.

The final Kaiju is crushed between the heel of their boot and the ocean floor, dying with an otherworldly scream. Almost as if it were poetic justice-their Jaeger begins to chirp with the warnings of power levels dropping. Michiru turns to look at Haruka, whose face is contorted in rage still, and she falls limp in her suit for a moment, taking in sheer endurance of her partner, who Michiru can _feel_ could go on for another four hours if they needed it.

Her focus snaps as the power begins to flutter and suddenly she’s sitting in a music studio flooding with sunlight. She feels entirely out of place, drenched in sweat and her Drivesuit. She’s sitting a ways away from a piano and she _knows_ she ought not be here-this is a Rabbit she should be back with Haruka this is wrong this is _dangerous--_

But then she hears the teenager at the piano is playing a hauntingly beautiful rendition of Beethoven's 8th. And it takes a moment for Michiru to recognize that _oh_ that’s _Haruka._

The face is rounder than she is used to, and this girl smiles serenely as she plays. There is no weight on this girl’s shoulders. She’s free. She finishes the piece with a flourish that is most definitely _not_ a part of the song and she laughs.

Michiru wants to cry at to the sound of it.

She wants to protect that purity. That laughter and joy. The joy she’d grown to love-the girl she loves-she _loves-_

Soft applause echoes in the room as a older woman rounds the piano to hug Haruka to her side. Without even needing to ask, Michiru knows this is the mother that Haruka lost. Haruka beams up with pride at her before seeming to notice that Michiru is in the room. She blinks, once, twice, before smiling at her-that familiar and heartbreaking tilt to her head present-and she opens her mouth to speak and-

Violently Michiru is ripped from the memory as the Drift ends. The breath is forced out of her chest. Haruka reaches with Michiru’s arms to lift off their helmets and they turn to face one another.

Haruka’s face doesn’t look like it should. It feels like she is looking into a mirror. Haruka takes a step forward and Michiru mirrors it.

They breath in time.

“Haruka.”

“Michiru.”

Michiru isn’t sure that she is the one who said Haruka’s name. She can’t feel which one she is. Everything in her head feels like it does in the Drift. Haruka’s thoughts still rattle around her mind. Her concern and exhaustion-her _love_ for Michiru-

Michiru falls into Haruka’s arms and even through the metal of their suits she can feel Haruka’s heartbeat falling time with her own.

 

Their medical checks feel like a dream. She cannot let go of Haruka’s hand. The first time they try to separate the two of them to assess the damage done to their minds, Haruka cries out in distress and Michiru pushes at the people trying to keep them apart. The panic of the loss of the other half of herself was paramount to common sense.

She hears Ami chattering nervously over her head as she checks their brainwaves.

_Longest Drift in history._

_Are we sure their brains can handle the sensory overload?_

_People weren’t meant to stay in the Drift that long!_

_Are the going to die?_

The words drift over Michiru’s head. All she can focus on is the metronome in their shared head, and Haruka’s finger tapping out the beat on the med bay bed.

“We’re leaving. We need to sleep.” Haruka finally growls, standing to her full height to glower over the rescue and medical crew.

When they fall asleep it is with Michiru’s head slotted against Haruka’s collarbone and Haruka’s arms wrapped around Michiru’s waist. Michiru wishes she could burrow under Haruka’s skin, to stay this close forever.

They dream of music.  


When they wake the next morning it isn’t painful to be separated from Haruka. Her head doesn’t throb when Haruka removes herself from Michiru’s bed with a murmured apology. Her mind still rattles with Haruka’s emotions, tossing and turning in her head. They leave their room only to eat, and they step as one person.

The whole dining hall goes silent as the enter to grab their food and then leave with it.

They eat with one of Michiru’s albums playing in the background-the familiar sound of the strings grounding them. Haruka’s fingers tap out the beat on the table, and she locks eyes with Michiru before looking away with a pained look in her eyes.

They’ve seen everything now. 18 hours in the Drift means that there is no stone left unturned, no memory unseen. Every emotion is laid out before you for you to absorb and think on. Haruka loves Michiru. The core of her hopes and dreams had been laid bare for Michiru to see.

The answer to the question that Michiru had been longing to know for over _three_ years is answered at last.

Michiru sits with her drawing pad on their bed and her fingers shake as they attempt to capture the memory of Haruka sitting at the piano. Every so often her gaze flickers up to the Haruka before her, who is drumming her fingers against their table as she reads the debriefing of their mission.

She feels Haruka’s heart reaching out for her. She’s about to open her mouth when there is a loud knock on their door.

A flare of anger kindles in Haruka’s chest and Michiru feels it rattle in her ribcage. She stalks like a lioness over to the door and listens as the scientist babbles out questions. Haruka’s annoyance grows higher and higher until she finally is forced to answer.

“I listened for the piano. That was me. The violin’s Michiru. That’s how.”

Michiru’s hand stills on the page, before the tremors take it back into small movements hovering over the page.

Haruka is the piano. She is the violin. She _watched_ Haruka playing, stepping into a memory that was not hers to watch. She fell in love with this storm of a woman and she was her _piano_ and she loves her so much-

Haruka’s hands take her’s gently. Soldiers hands. The pair of them.

“Are you alright?”

“I am fine-”

“You can’t lie to me Michiru. I can _feel_ it in your mind, I-”

Haruka is looking up at her as if Michiru was a landline as Michiru toys with Haruka’s fingers. She loves these hands. Everything about them. From the callouses from the training staffs, to the scars from fighting. The warmth of them against her own chilled fingers. Haruka waits for her, and Michiru is overcome by Haruka’s worry and concern. Her sudden patience.

She admits to chasing the Rabbit.

Haruka’s surprise registers in her mind and it is pure love that blossoms from the point on her forehead where Haruka’s lips meet her skin. Tucked into Haruka’s arms, Michiru feels the safest she possibly can.

Haruka’s babbled apology is a fearful step backwards, and Michiru is having none of that. Not after feeling Haruka in her heart, with their hearts beating as one. Her eyes blur with tears and she curses her emotions as she spits out her question. Her fingers curl around Haruka’s shirt, rooting her to her anchor.

Haruka’s fear is palpable and Michiru wants to curse her partner, who is normally the picture of courage, for running from one of the few things that really _matters_ in this life.

“I don’t really know.”

The answer is a cop-out and Haruka knows it. Michiru knows it. The whole facade is a farce. Michiru knows better than anyone that Haruka feels safest at arm’s length away from problems of the heart. Things she cannot fight. That’s why she’s kept Michiru so far away.

Fuck it.

Michiru pulls Haruka up bodily to slot their lips together. It is decidedly ungraceful and Haruka’s yelp of surprise causes teeth to mash for a moment before Haruka recovers her senses and _finally_ kisses back. It is like coming home and Michiru marvels at how similar this is to being in the Drift.

As they finally cross the last barrier between them, Michiru relishes the way that even now-as her hands are covered in scars and she likely could never play the violin the way she used to-her hands can appreciate every _inch_ of Haruka’s body.

 

Years pass in this routine. The Jaeger program is quietly downsized every passing year and Michiru watches with growing dread as Kaiju appear more and more out in the ocean beyond the Anti-Kaiju Wall.

She watches Artemis and Luna, long since retired, strap helmets back on and get back into their Mark-2 as the world decides that no more Jaegers should be built. They take down two Kaiju attacking the Wall around Japan and Michiru and Haruka watch the screen monitoring their vitals as they flatline as the nuclear core of the world famous Lunar Feline explodes.

They pretend not to hear their superiors' daughter cry out in anguish at the funeral. They wear their dress uniforms, crisp and sharp, and stand side by side, fingers touching. They watch Setsuna step into the role of Marshal and see her shoulders sag under the pressure. Ami and Makoto working nearly 24-7 trying to devise a plan to keep what Jaegers they do have afloat.

Shaking Submerge is a Mark-3 and has seen more battles than any Jaeger ought to. Haruka jokingly calls it their child one day, and Michiru’s chest feels full at the thought of a life that would never be for them.

 

“Haruka, when this is over,” Michiru begins tentatively, as they toss a weighted ball back and forth across the room, no longer needing a metronome to keep in time, “What do you want to do?”

Haruka smiles, and tilts her head in the way she _knows_ causes Michiru’s heart to race, and answers.

“I’m going to take you cruising down the shoreline in my car.”

Michiru can almost feel the sea breeze on her skin at the words.

“What about you, Michi?”

Michiru smiles serenely.

“I’d like to paint you in my studio.”

Haruka nods and her eyes go soft.

“Alright. It’s a plan then.”

They continue to throw the weight back and forth in silence as they contemplate the fact that these dreams will likely never happen.

Jaeger pilots don’t retire anymore.

They go down fighting.

 

The Shatterdome is just as Michiru remembers it. The acrid scent of metal being welded together and the overpowering feeling of desperation almost overwhelms her. At her side, Haruka huffs in contempt of the whole affair. Huffs at the idea of being dragged kicking and screaming from their home and the country they defended with all they had. Her impatience is palpable.

Haruka gathers Michiru in her arms and Michiru cups her cheek and gazes at the woman who dragged her into duty. The stormy eyes that no longer screamed for revenge, but rather spoke of devotion and honor. The carelessly styled straw blonde hair that always stuck up in every which direction when they took off their helmets. The handsome face that had charmed a nation and won Michiru’s heart.

She would die to protect this face. This person.

They kiss and Haruka soothes.

They breath in sync to their personal metronome and Michiru silently bids farewell to the world behind her. This is the end for them. Nine years is a long time for anyone to be a soldier. But with her hands she would be a soldier for just a little longer to finish the job.

 

The double event was predicted by Ami months ago, but even _knowing_ that it is coming, Michiru is scared by the prospect of fighting two Kaiju at once. One after the other was no problem for them-they had done it before. This was something completely different.

As they drop in the ocean to begin the fight, Haruka turns to her with a wolfish grin and a careless tilt to her head.

“So I’m thinking I’m going to take you on that drive in a Mustang. How does that sound?”

The nerves bouncing between them loosen for a brief moment of levity and Michiru chokes out a laugh.

“Only if you promise to pose nude for me.”

Haruka’s laughter is unbalanced as she nods.

“It’s a promise.”

They both know it’s a promise that they can’t keep.

 

In the year 2017, Michiru and Haruka graduated from the Jaeger Ranger Program with flying colors. In 2020, they experienced the longest Drift in recorded history and survived it. In 2025, the left arm of Shaking Submerge is torn off and dimly Michiru realises that she’ll never be able to play the violin again as Haruka roars in pain.

The Kaiju’s claws rip a hole in the head of their Jaeger and Michiru’s sent sprawling backwards, the control rig snapping in half.

She hears Ami’s voice over the comm-link begging them to get into their escape pods but all Michiru feels is rage and anguish. Haruka lashes out with their plasma cannon one last time as the Kaiju leaps onto their Jaeger and begins to drag it down.

Michiru stands in time to have the hole in the outer wall of their control center burst into the inner wall. Water floods into their chamber and Haruka’s panic is overwhelming for a brief moment as Michiru reaches out for her partner’s hand.

They call out for each other, and the fear is cloying in Michiru’s mouth as the water roars around her.

Michiru had never been afraid of the water before. Now, as she sinks, she finally fears it. She feels Haruka fading from her head and she claws through the water to grab hold of her partner, her visor cracking under pressure. She wants to see Haruka.

She needs to see her before they die.

Haruka’s fingers squeeze her own and they lock eyes for a brief moment before the circuitry in their watery prison finally gives way and explodes.

They are flung outward into the ocean, sinking, and Michiru feels blind without the Drift to connect her to Haruka.

Haruka’s arms wrap around her, and Michiru feels their hearts beat as one.

When she closes her eyes she dreams with Haruka.

They ride along the coast line, and her sketchbook is open to a page with a beautiful study of Haruka in movement. They wear high school uniforms, crisp and smart, and live in peace at last.

It was a nice last dream.

 

Kaioh Michiru never saw herself as a soldier. She saw herself as an artist in many fields, with a handsome man on her arm at galas. She saw herself as one of Japan’s shining stars whose only duty was to create beautiful things.  

Kaioh Michiru died a soldier, locked in the arms of her partner, smiling at a job well done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, no one should allow me to EVER reread my old fics. It has been a very humbling experience that involved a lot of screaming into pillows at the EGO of younger me for believing I was a LOT better than I was. For shame younger me, for shame.  
> On the topic of shame people should follow me on tumblr and like uh...ask me to write things or talk to me. I'm lonely. http://theodddaysout.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> The second part is much more in depth and also longer. Michiru is far more eloquent.


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